The Soloist
by treacher
Summary: Away from the place she believed she belonged to, she learned pain and self-healing.
1. advent

[1/4]

standard disclaimer applied

* * *

 **The Soloist**

 _o1. advent_

* * *

There was a dull pain growing in her chest.

It wasn't like the usual pain she would experience when the day was colder than the usual—it was the annoying one and it refused to go away. She was a medic, a field medic that had just returned from the front lines and she should be aware if she was sick. She should be able to identify what sickness she suffered. She knew she was suffering the infamous infection; that would be obvious as her left iris turned white, leaving only the small black dot of the pupil. However, she was aware that this one had nothing to do with the infection. She must be suffering another illness.

But she wasn't. The dull pain wasn't exactly an illness or the aftereffect of working on the land where life could slip away easily. She knew that wasn't the problem. Lucy was a strong-spirited woman and she knew she could handle everything by herself.

 _'Perhaps you need a… uh, holiday. Yeah. Holiday.'_

No Levy, I don't need any holiday was what she was trying to argue back then. But back then, the pain became unbearable and her job failing, only slightly because _moron, you have to save many lives_ , because of that. It wouldn't do if she mistook the stitch count, they were talking about people's lives there. One small slip could disable any soldier and that would be a pity.

So she took several weeks off. She traveled back to her hometown with an aircraft—sitting amidst the crates and barrels of weapon was not a big problem for her—only to find it gone. There was nothing left at Magnolia when she arrived there. No wonder the peddler gave her a strange look when she asked for a ride there.

Magnolia, once a flourishing small town, full of lush green fields and flowery streets, was now a barren land, dry and empty and _terrifying._

Lucy did not bother to look up the reason—she was too tired to even think about her family's whereabouts—and just stopped the next peddler she happened to found and headed to whatever town he was heading to.

That brought her here, a small town called Acalypha. The peddler offered her a good inn he knew, but she was pretty tight in the pocket. Her money wouldn't be able to support her three weeks _holiday_ if she landed on a good inn. She needed to preserve the small amount of money she had. And that condition brought her to this small bar, a cafe perhaps if the rusty sign didn't play tricks with her half-blind eye.

Just like any other traveling people, she wore a dusty cloak that came out to be convenient for any weather. When she first entered the bar, she expected to be scolded by the owner for her dirty cloak. Turned out the owner wasn't even there and only appeared when she settled herself on the corner of the room.

"That would be eighteen jewels. Please wait a moment." He said when Lucy turned the money in exchange of coffee and a couple of sandwiches.

Perhaps because of the dim light Lucy failed to notice the sleeping dog and almost tripped over it. The brown dog only shifted a little in its sleep before deliberately ignoring her and sighed. Lucy wondered if she could be as careless as the dog. That would be helpful if not relieving.

She carefully moved the duffel bag to the seat across her, saving the table for her coffee and sandwiches.

That was when she heard the sound of rough, screeching melody. At first she thought it was only the wind that entered the wrong pipes, but in summer, wind became rare and one of the most enjoyable things around summer. The screechy melody, however, wasn't the most enjoyable thing to hear.

Lucy wondered if the old man turned on a radio and then it would be understandable—the radio didn't work well these days with war raging on and it would create less than pleasing sound.

"Sorry for the wait, miss." Lucy was pulled from her musing when a plate of hot sandwiches placed on the table along with the steaming hot black coffee. "And that is my grandson playing his violin. I'm sorry if he bothers you."

She blinked and turned to the old man stiffly, offering him a small but polite smile. "It's fine. Thank you."

The old man's eyes crinkle as he smiled. Lucy tried not to flinch at the sight of yellow and uneven teeth. "Enjoy your meal," he said before returning to the room behind the counter.

Lucy eyed the sandwiches. It was nothing fancy, just your ordinary canned-tuna sandwich cooked with half attention—the edge of the bread was burnt. But the taste was better than it looked, far better than what she usually eat back when she was working. A ration with bland taste it felt like eating dirt was her usual food consumption. It wasn't very nutritious nor delicious, but as long as it could turn into energy, anything would do.

The MRE or 'Meal Ready-to-Eat' was what made her feel homesick sooner than she thought. Even Levy was able to gobble them in until at the fifth week when she finally fell into homesickness.

 _'You look pale, Lucy. Are you okay? I heard you are granted the permission to go back home–'_

 _'I'm fine, Erza. And yes, I'll be away for a few weeks.'_

 _'Well, enjoy them while you can. You should visit your family.'_

 _'I know…'_

Well, her family was gone now and she wouldn't be too surprised if someday she found out they were dead already. She was already too familiar with death that her body created her own immune against any surprising news.

Though, now she wasn't sure where she would head to. Her house was literally gone and she had no relative. Her only option was to find some cheap inn and made her temporary nest there until they sent her a ticket to go back to the war zone.

It was her first time to think that being in that dull green tent, stitching skin and her hands covered in blood was better than being home.

* * *

The old man turned out to have one spare room upstairs.

It was a small room with squeaky wooden floor. No windows or hanging ornament, but there was a small, worn-out bed which springs came out the surface, a wooden chair, and a small cupboard. The lamp was dim and often flickering by itself. Lucy wasn't afraid of that or ghost. She was more afraid of dying patients rather than those.

Her duffel bag was placed carelessly yesterday as she could barely open her eyes—fatigue hit her like a storm—and before she could even take off the cloak, she fell asleep.

Which made her wonder why was her cloak now hanging on the door, leaving her with a drenched gray shirt and jeans. Her black boots were tossed carelessly last night, she remembered, but they were now placed neatly beside her bed.

Her eyes narrowed. Someone must have entered her room.

The soft knock against the old door jerked her out of her suspicion. She muttered a soft 'come in' as she opened her bag to inspect if her belongings were missing. The old man came in then, holding a cup of steaming hot liquid. Not coffee, she told herself, and not tea either.

"Good morning, miss," he greeted, setting the cup on the cupboard with the same polite smile. Lucy gave him a quick nod and continued searching for any missing thing. The old man blinked. "Is something the matter?"

"No, it's just– I slept with my cloak on and when I woke up, it's already hanging there." She explained, inwardly thanking that none of her belonging was missing. "I mean, I think someone entered my– this room."

"Oh, that must be my grandson. He's a curious child, you see. Last night I wasn't able to introduce you to him and I think he decided to see you by himself."

"Um, okay then." His explanation wasn't pretty much reassuring.

"Well, I got delicious fresh milk for you. It tastes good; my grandson likes it very much. Come down when you're ready. I have breakfast prepared for you."

With a nod of head, the old man exited the room and Lucy could no longer suppress an exasperated sigh.

His grandson was the one who entered the room in her sleep. So it wasn't a thief or some random pervert–at least she could defend herself if it was a pervert. Well, whoever this grandson of his was, she knew she should introduce herself to him.

As if on cue, she heard another screeching sound that slowly turned into a set of unimpressive song. She cringed when the volume got louder and the tempo quicken. Lucy got the urge to inspect the instrument.

She pushed herself to stand. Not bothering to wear her boots, she then walked out of her room.

What greeted her outside was a solid wall. She bumped herself over it and almost fell if her reflex on grabbing the door wasn't good enough. Her nose was burning in pain, but at least it didn't bleed. Still, she was furious to whatever stood in her way.

Or rather, _whoever,_ because when she looked up, she found a man taller than her standing right outside her room while blinking slowly. Was he another customer?

"Uh, hello?" She greeted, though it turned into a question.

"Yo!" He replied, offering her a wide toothy grin and pulled her to her feet that if she wasn't careful enough, she would crash into his chest and it would leave a bad impression on him. "Who are you?" He then asked.

Lucy wasn't sure when he extended his hand. "I'm Lucy, a customer."

"Really? I thought Jiichan doesn't want to take a staying customer." He said, confusion written all over his face. "Well the name's Natsu! Nice meetin' ya!"

Lucy nodded and secretly wondering if her eye playing tricks on her. But she dared to bet on her blind eye that his hair was _pink_.

She decided to ask him. Asking for the truth was always been better than making assumptions.

"Natsu, is your hair natural?"

The man blinked once before he laughed. "Of course!" He exclaimed, then walking away, climbing down the stairs because all Lucy heard was the same creaking, squeaky sound when she stepped on them last night. He was pretty weird, she thought. It took her another second to decide that she was a little bit bothered by the fact that he was standing right in front of her (temporary) room.

All thought left her head when she felt her stomach rumbling. A small sound was following right after and she thanked that the man away already.

Downstairs, at the bar area, Lucy could see the old man owner and Natsu, already sitting on the high barstool while observing his old man cooking, flipping what seemed as a pancake with a smooth flick of wrist. The smell was nice, sweet and delicious.

She pulled another stool beside Natsu, waiting for the pancake to be ready. An old tv was placed not too far from the counter. Its screen was slightly hazy and the sound came out of it sounds like a broken tape. But it was better to watch them than thinking any other thing. Perhaps by luck, she could, somehow, comprehend what the newscaster was talking about.

 _"The war against– re-sulted– soldiers kille-d and… –suicide bo-mb…"_

Lucy stood abruptly, knocking over the stool. Natsu and the old man gave her a confused look which she ignored as she gasped, "Suicide bomb? W- Where's the remote control?!"

Natsu hastily gave her the item and Lucy pressed the plus button until the room was filled with buzzing noise from the tv.

"Uh, Lucy, my ears are pretty sensitive and–"

"Shut up!" She barked. Her hands gripping the remote control tightly and she bit her inner cheek. Between the buzzing sound, she could hear the reporter's voice.

 _"–surprise atta-ck in the mi-ddle of the night… more than a hundr-ed soldiers ar-e killed in the ambush– Willy Wilson reporting fr-om Area Zero XV–"_

The news cut there and the toothpaste advertisement started to sing its jingle. Lucy pressed the minus button to lower the volume. She pulled the stool and sat on it, the remote control was still in her hands. She didn't realize her knuckle was turning white.

"Ow my ears…" Natsu rubbed his ears, but the gesture was hardly noticed by Lucy. "Area Zero XV… isn't that the place where the infection first discovered?" Natsu wondered out loud, not intending to anyone but Lucy flinched visibly at the mention of it.

She stared at her lap, suddenly finding her ripped jeans more interesting than the news she watched just now.

Suicide bomb and an ambush. From what the reporter said, it seemed that no one made it out alive. Erza and Levy… were they killed too? What about Lieutenant Gildarts? That old man was too strong-headed to be killed from a mere bomb and ambush.

Right?

"Miss, the pancake is ready. Do you want sugar on it or the classic maple syrup?"

Lucy looked up from her lap and found a plate of pancake in front of her. Behind the counter, the old man held a cup of sugar and a bottle of maple syrup in each hand.

"M-Maple syrup, please," she answered and hating the fact that she was stuttering.

"Alright." He poured the brown syrup over the pancake. Lucy watched as the thick liquid fell in a gentle flow before it faded away and she was left alone with her mind.

 _'Code red! Code red! We have patients!'_

 _'How bad are the injuries?!'_

 _'They're slipping away! Oi! Jellal, hang on!'_

 _'Lucy! Please, save him!'_

 _'Lucy I need help! The blood–'_

 _'We need blood transfusion! He's losing too much blood!'_

 _'Erza, don't die on me!'_

 _'Lucy! Lucy!'_

"Lucy?"

"Huh?!"

Her seeing eye focused on the pancake and the maple syrup. She blinked slowly before finally registering the light touch on her shoulder. Lifting her head once again, she found the two males staring at her with wide eyes.

The hand on her shoulder felt hot and she flinched as if it burned her. The owner of the hand muttered a small 'sorry' which Lucy quickly reply in a quick nod.

"Lucy, are you alright?" Natsu asked. His eyes peered on her face and she immediately felt it. Curiosity, confusion, _pity_.

"I'm fine," she said, swatting the hand that once again resting on her shoulder. "I'm fine," she repeated, just like a mantra.

I'm fine. I'm fine. It's okay.

"You should eat, miss." The old man patted her head. Lucy didn't know how to react. Part of her wanted to inch away and another wanted to stay. But how could she? They were stranger, they didn't know her, she couldn't let any weakness shown to strangers.

"I- I'll eat in my room." She stood abruptly and climbed upstairs, forgetting the pancake and ignoring the stares the two males gave her.

The door shut behind her softly and she let herself sunk into her knees. The image of blood started to make her sick. She remembered vividly the human organ when she performed surgery, the yellowish white bone when she tended a wound from bomb. The tangy scent of blood filled her nose and bile rose in her throat.

She reached something, anything that near her as she emptied her stomach into it. A small plastic bucket was now dirty of her gastric and unprocessed yesterday's food.

Lucy shivered. Imagining the contact Natsu and the old man made with her made her scared. In her eyes, those arms turned into bloody limbs and rotten flesh.

 _'Perhaps you need a… uh, holiday. Yeah. Holiday.'_

A holiday. Yes. She was on a holiday. The ambush was nothing of her business. The dying soldiers weren't of her concern.

 _'You look like out of it these days. Um… less golden? Less shiny?'_

 _'My hair has nothing to do with whatever you are talking about, Levy.'_

 _'But I'm serious! You need to rest! And eat! I know you haven't eaten properly since three days ago!'_

They were the ones that pushed her. They made her out of the war zone. She was out of the Area Zero and the responsibility for her duty as medic was left behind.

But—

If she was there, she could save them. She could save Levy and Erza. Perhaps Jellal too because the blue haired man was going to propose the red hair female soldier. Jellal and Erza could live happily, they could retire soon from their duty and have babies. They could live somewhere peaceful on the countryside, just like what Erza often daydreaming about.

Levy could retire as well and actually working on her unfinished novel. She would be a famous novelist with best-selling novels. The petite girl was never suited to become a field medic.

But Lucy wasn't there and they were killed.

The dull pain became worse and Lucy should have known, should have believed her hunch. She shouldn't have leave.

* * *

continued in [2/4]

For those who read my other two stories, I'm very sorry for the delay. I have graduated from high school and now I'm very busy with college entrance exam. Prep school is what I attend now and it's pretty far from my house. I can hardly touch my laptop and I can only write on my phone. As for this story, I'm currently writing the third part, though I'm not sure if it will end in the fourth part or just the third part.

College entrance announcement part one is announced on Monday. I wish I got accepted there so I will have more time to write the continuation of the other story. If not, then expect me to hold the other story until the end of this month and I don't want that :'3

Part [2/4] will be published on... Sunday? Perhaps! Later, folks!


	2. lethargy

[2/4]

standard disclaimer applied

* * *

 **The Soloist**

 _o2. lethargy_

* * *

Lucy was dragging her feet, leather boots somehow only adding weight to her already heavy steps and shuffling noisily against the rocky pavement. She paid no attention to it, as much as she went against her own principle of being watchful. Her mind was off somewhere—she would have kissed the tree if not for her good reflex.

Being the sole survivor of the ambush, if not by pure luck, made her restless. Last night's sleep wasn't a good-night's sleep at all and she spent the whole one day previous locking herself in her room.

It was around 3 in the morning when the thought came at her— _the other camp._

The telegram station on the outskirts of the small town was generous enough to let her sent one to the backup squad located south of her camp. The response was pretty quick, but all hope vanished when she read the zero possibility of any survivor. Somehow, Lucy managed not to hyperventilate. The skinny man behind the old counter offered a small, sympathetic-loaded smile and it took all of her not to empty her stomach.

She didn't need pity goddammit.

Because the medic was already as pathetic as she was. She knew it—she didn't need anyone to pronounce it for her. The last thing she needed was meddlesome people.

Natsu was included.

"You look like you want to cry," he said as he rocked back and forth on his chair. Lucy chose to ignore his comment and slammed shut the door. If there were any hanging ornament, they would be falling and crashed to the floor already. "Okay, correction. You look like you have been crying. What's up?"

She was forced to stop mid-step. Lucy was biting her inner cheek so hard until the blood started to coat her tongue. If only, _if only_ his old man wasn't present behind the bar, watching broken tv while feigning ignorance, she would strangle the man already.

So instead, she clenched and un-clenched her hand beneath her cloak. Her face remained neutral, impassive, just like how she wore it all the way from the telegram post to here. She should not snap here. Snapping there meant she admitted losing and _admitting losing_ was never existed in her head.

Escaping wasn't the noblest thing to commit, but so did killing. It wasn't as if she had never killed anyone before, but it happened when she was almost got herself beheaded by the spy.

And this wasn't a war, Lucy was very much aware of it. Killing civilian was a taboo. So between killing and escaping, Lucy swallowed her pride and climbed the old stairs, intending on leaving the prying male.

"Lucy, don't ignore me!"

Lucy threw one of her boots. There was a pained yell following and a groan. She would retrieve it later when she calmed herself down and when Natsu, hopefully, learn to shut his mouth.

They barely knew each other and _how dare he?!_ Did he never hear anything about privacy or minding one's own business? Knowing each other's name wasn't enough to actually learn each other's privacy! God, he needed to learn to think.

Her shoulder sagged. And _she_ needed to get moving.

Lucy still remembered the content of the telegram she received. The southeast camp needed more medical supply and more capable hand to tend the injured and she happened to be the only one remaining from the northwest camp.

She didn't want to be self-centered, but _they needed her_. They needed the every available manpower and, she mused, being there was better than here anyway. At least there she could do something and not only wasting time.

And with the downfall of the northwest camp, it wasn't as if she had anywhere to go, to settle. Traveling was out of the question; she still had the medic soul in her.

Lucy's got lives to save because death wouldn't wait until the medics made their move.

She would need to get moving soon if she wanted to catch the train. As a small town, she knew the train that passed Acalypha rarely stopping. There would be only two trains that actually stopped.

A presence was felt behind the door just right after she took off her cloak, leaving only a mesh shirt and a black binding across her chest beneath. The person outside made no move to knock the door and she became impatient. "I know it's you, Natsu," she snapped.

She could even feel him shift behind the door, scratching his hair, and sighing. But he made no answer and so she barked, "Goddammit, I know you are there, so do me a favor and _answer me!_ "

There was a hesitant reply coming from him. "Can I come in?"

"If it's only my shoe, then just put it there."

"Jiichan told me to talk with you, though," was his reply.

"Speak."

"He told me I should apologize."

She hummed. "And?"

"And… well, I guess I should. He said it's not polite."

Lucy fought the urge to pull open the door and punch the day light outta him. The man needed it for his own goodness.

"I think Jiichan is right; I was rude. I'm sorry."

She finally pulled open the door, startling the male standing right in front of her, and before he could make another move, she slapped his cheek. Hard.

The sound echoed the empty, narrow corridor and she wasn't surprised if the old man heard it through the broken noise of the tv. Natsu stumbled backwards and dropped her shoe. She slipped her foot in and secured the footwear before turning on him. She expected him to throw a tantrum or groaning in pain, but he simply stood there with a red hand print on his cheek.

He blinked, looking so dumbfounded. Did she slap him that hard his brain got damaged?

"I'm sorry, Natsu, but you deserve it," she finally said, sighing. "It was very insensitive and unbelievably rude of you. You can't simply say whatever that comes into your mind. If it was Erza, she would impale you with one of her swords already."

He still stood there, unmoved. The slow blink was the only indication that he was still alive. Lucy's temper rose, skyrocketing. "And if it was Levy, she would have shoved her medical book down your throat or if it was Jellal, he would leave you with holes all over your bloody torso!"

She barely noticed her blurry sight or if the male was finally coming back from the trance. All she saw was the face of her friends, her _family_. And blood, separated limbs, organs. She felt sick suddenly.

Lucy slapped him for the second times. "You're lucky it was me. Now, _move_."

Only then he finally moved; a small step behind. Between them now a small space, although enough for her to pass, her legs refused to move. Her seeing eye locked with the dark eye of his and she wondered, frantically, if he had anything to do with her inability to move. Lucy cursed inwardly—her sight getting more blurry.

And the more she held his eyes, the more she became panicked. He stared at her with such blank look, but she knew that beneath it was a studying gaze. She was not going to be read easily. After all, she was, technically, a soldier and a soldier wasn't allowed to get studied by anyone.

He opened his mouth; he spoke slowly as if spelling it out like one would do with a toddler. "You feel guilty," spoke the male, voice quiet like a whisper but firm and sturdy.

She glared him. Her grip on the strap of her bag tightened. "Shut up."

"You might look like a tower, a high tower that watches over everything, but you…" he continued, ignoring her hot glare. Natsu frowned instead. "You don't tend yourself."

"Shut up."

"You know your weakness, but you just cover it. You don't _repair_ it."

"Shut up–"

"You are crumbling down and only stupid people who force themselves to move–"

"SHUT UP!" She screamed. Hands flew to cover her ears as images appeared in her mind. "Shut up, shut up, _shut up!_ "

"–without realizing what they capable of and what they _incapable_ of. It's suicidal, it's a futile attempt. It's not redemption."

"Shut up!" She roared again. "Don't act all wise and shit! Like you know anything about it!"

"Lucy, it's not your fault!"

"You don't understand! They're my family! And now they're dead! They left me!"

"So what? It's not your fault that they're dead!"

"It's a fucking war and I should've there instead of going for a fucking _holiday_!"

"They knew! Fuck, Lucy, they _knew_! That's why they sent you here!"

Her eyes flew open, wide and full of shock. Her sight was worsening to the point where all she could see was a blob of pink and colors mixed all over the place. And in spite of that, she could see him covering his mouth with head glanced to the side.

She made a nervous gulp–her hands around ears went slack. Her mind was racing, repeating his word over and over, wondering if she heard it wrong, wondering if the infection had finally reached her ear as well.

Her mouth was dry suddenly. Words came out in a slow stutter, "Wha– What do you… What the hell?" And Natsu seemed hesitant to answer, but she was stubborn and so she pressed, "Talk to me, dammit– _What. the_ _. hell?_ "

"No, it's nothing. I'm just rambling."

"No, you know something." She glared again. Her seeing eye, her right eye was a bloodshot now and it took a while until the sudden blackout receded. A growl escaped her mouth, " _Natsu._ "

"It's nothing, none of your business," was all he could muster out before he turned to leave.

"You know something!" She yelled, throwing away her bag. "Bastard, come back here! _Talk to me!_ "

There was a sound of the creaky stairs. By her hearing, she followed the sound—her view through the right eye was a mess. "I deserve to know anything about this! Natsu! You coward, face me like a man!"

Darkness engulfed her. Pitch black surrounding and nausea slowly building. She was left alone, no sound, no light. Lucy panicked. "Natsu… Natsu? Old man?" She called. Her body swayed and energy seemed to leave her body. " _Where are y–_ "

* * *

 _Air bubble rose around her. Deep blue color filled her eyes. Her nose was hurt and the glimmering light, the surface grew farther. Her body was sinking deeper, into the bottom of the ocean and she let herself lulled by the hum of the salt water song._

* * *

Lucy rarely dreamt of seeing the day when the sky was blue, the trees were flourishing green, the wind free from ashes and dirt, and barren land filled with fresh green grass. The last time she saw that was when she was a child, several years before the war started, before the epidemic became unavoidable.

Magnolia was her haven. Summer wind rustling the leaves and the trees created shadows beneath. Grassy garden with flowers colored the view. People chatted happily, children played and laughed heartily. Its peaceful atmosphere was what she remembered the most. She loved it there, being there, in the place she knew she belong to.

She knew it was all a dream, an embodiment of her longing toward her home that came from the deepest corner of her mind. So she turned around and watched the barren land stretched ahead. _That_ was where she belonged now as a field medic, as a person with important role, mind and heart. _That_ was the war zone.

 _I am a soldier._

 _A soldier cannot die outside the war._

 _And the war—_

War couldn't be avoided. The pressure from the neighboring, eternal enemy country was high. There was no more point with agreement or cold war. Winter had passed and so did spring, the wind had brought a dry whiff and summer came. Military aggression took its turn after a long suspension.

War brought ending and meeting. Dying soldier was nothing new in that field, but those who remained were torn between the sadness of a lost comrade and relief to return alive.

Needless to say that Lucy was one of the many remaining soldiers and the sole remain from her camp. She was a survivor. And she was a medic, a role that held the utmost importance. She couldn't be blind.

 _The war needs soldiers._

 _And the soldier is me._

Light fell right into her retina. Her face contorted as sharp pain crept around her skull, stimulated by her sudden jerky movement of covering her seeing eye.

But the light was quickly covered and shadow fell around her. Her eye was slow to adjust the sudden light shift and it took some times to realize it was Natsu in front of her.

If the situation was different, she would laugh at his face—it was priceless.

"Lucy? Lucy! Can you hear me?!"

 _You don't have to_ "…shout." She wasn't able to say the whole sentence, though he seemed to understand as he lowered his voice. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Skull pain, momentary blind, sudden dizziness," Lucy listed and attempted to shrug a shoulder lamely. "Infection's side effect."

"And planting your head into the floor," he sighed, rubbing his temple. Lucy muttered a tiny 'ouch' at his complement information. "Okay, you should rest. I'll go downstairs and call Jiichan."

"Wait, I still– I demand explanation."

Natsu stared at her with brows knitted, exasperated perhaps, sighed again and stood. Lucy then realized she was back in her room, back in her bed which springs sprang out of the surface. Natsu must have brought her there.

"That's why I'll go get Jiichan," he muttered before leaving the room and proceed downstairs.

When he came back, the old man was wearing his usual apron with a cup and a wiping cloth in hands. Upon looking at her condition, he didn't bother to suppress the heavy sigh.

Natsu pulled a stool and the old man sat there while he helped Lucy to sit. She flashed him a thank-you blink before she watched the old man gently wiping the cup.

"I know you are confused," he started after a long, uncomfortable silence stretched far. "I don't expect you to believe me or Natsu, but hear me out. Calmly."

Her gut clenched, twisted in a way similar when she was confronted with a dying man. The dull pain appeared again in her chest. Lucy forced herself not to scream, not to curse, just— _listen_ _calmly_.

Bile rose in her and she forced it down, gulping in a way they would see it as a nervous reaction. "Okay," she croaked.

The old man put the cup and the cloth on the floor and straightened his posture. Beside him, standing, Natsu stiffened visibly. Concealed by tiredness, Lucy couldn't help but feeling skeptical. Something was different from the old man she knew these three days.

Perhaps it was his face, sterner than the usual calm and poker face. Perhaps it was his posture, no longer hunched, giving the idea of being an old man with rheumatic a mere telltale.

Perhaps, _perhaps_ he wasn't a person she could easily read. Wise, yes, but deceptive? No.

"I believe I have yet to tell you my name, miss," spoke the old man, gently, firmly. "My name is Makarov Dreyar. As a field medic, I'm sure you have heard that name several times."

"Related to Laxus Dreyar?" She asked tentatively.

"He is my grandson, yes," Makarov nodded. "He is currently in the Area Delta V."

"You are General Dreyar from Area Alpha One," Lucy deadpanned. She glanced at Natsu and knitted her eyebrows when he didn't seem to be bothered by it. Clicking her tongue, she then said, "Okay, what in the world are you doing here? Vacation?"

Makarov chuckled at the dripping sarcasm, the corner of his eyes wrinkled. "Most people know I'm retired and go back to a settlement prepared for me."

"Most?"

"Mostly, but I'm not. I'm on a mission, secret mission known only by me and him." He gestured to the much younger man beside him. "Natsu's not my grandson, though we've lived together for a long time enough for me to call him that."

Makarov glanced to the said man, silently nudging him to say something. His posture became relaxed, Lucy noticed. He rubbed his neck and frowned. "Jiichan kind of found me and took me with him. Well, he forced me," he finished almost lamely. "I'm also in this secret mission because he dragged me to."

Despite the light atmosphere around her, she couldn't stop herself from being tense. A secret mission sounded too… irrational, surreal.

Lucy forced out a laugh. "Makarov-san, I know you're trying to help me, but as far as I'm concerned, my head is fine and I'm still sane."

Two males glanced at each other. Lucy didn't like the frown they gave her after. "Lucy, we're not playing," Natsu spoke.

"No, no, it's okay. I appreciate it. The effort is what counted. I'm feeling better now."

Something like secret mission could only exist in one of Levy's sci-fi fiction novels. And this war was not a plaything. This war was real.

"Lucy Astin, formerly known as Lucy Heartfilia, an heiress to the Eastern Coast Dukedom, raised in Magnolia Orphanage from the age of seven years old to sixteen years old. Left the orphanage to join the field medic recruitment at seventeen years old. Entered the field medic job at nineteen until now."

Makarov closed his eyes, swiftly avoiding Lucy's stunned look. Natsu didn't have much different expression than her. Makarov could only suppress another sigh.

"Jiichan, that was classified information, wasn't it?" Natsu asked.

"Of course. And if such classified information looks like a plaything for you, then I can spell out your number for you, miss."

Lucy quickly reached the dog tag dangling around her neck. A soldier's number was the most important thing, also etched on the dog tag, and she was not going to tell anyone hers. Someone told her to protect it, to not let anyone find her number easily.

"Makarov-san, I believe we're in a state where more… more life-threatening war is waiting to explode. It just… a secret mission sounds stupid around this situation. Forgive my thoughtless behavior," she inclined her head. "But why telling me? I'm not— I haven't received any word about it."

Natsu put a hand on her shoulder, frosting her rigid posture with the simple gesture. "Don't freak out, okay?" He said. "The reason why we tell you this is because you are the subject of our mission."

* * *

continued in [3/4]

Okay, maybe this story will become longer each chapter coming. I guess if I want to keep it into four-chapter story, you should bear with the long content. I'm still writing the third chapter, half-way done and still need some edit here and there. It's ooc and I'm sorry for the foul language, well, cursing here and there.

Tomorrow will be the announcement of college entrance result and I'm very nervous... I'm pretty positive I'll got accepted, though I guess I still need miracle and luck for it to happens. I want to cut all the internet connection I have tomorrow and roll into a small ball of anxiety at the corner of my room.

Keep the review and love coming! Kind words will brighten my day and help me forget tomorrow's euphoria. [3/4] will be published on... Tuesday? Or Wednesday? Yeah, perhaps! Later, folks!


	3. departure

[3/4]

standard disclaimer applied

* * *

 **The Soloist**

 _o3. departure_

* * *

"I am the subject? Wait, I think I misheard–"

"No, you aren't misheard anything. _You_ are what our mission is," Makarov cut mid-sentence, and then, "The fact that you are here is planned."

Lucy's eyes widened. Planned?

"Planned?" She found herself echoing. The dread she felt when she saw Makarov nodding his head was dizzying.

"It's the first phase of the mission: to bring Lucy Astin here, away from the soon-ambushed camp."

First phase, Lucy's numb mind echoed, so there was more of this mission. How many more phase she needed to pass?

"Y-You know the camp was going to be a-ambushed," she stuttered, willing herself to appear angry more than stunned. "You know! Y-You could have told them! You should have informed them and they wouldn't have to die!"

"Lucy," Makarov's hard stare silenced her immediately, "what part of this _planned_ -thing that you don't understand?"

Planned. Again, that word. Lucy's mind went blank, she stared at the space as her confused mind sucked her into a closed space inside her body.

 _It's all planned._

 _Planned. A plan, a scheme._

 _'What part of this that you fail to understand, soldier?!'_

 _'Lu! We have booked you a ticket! Well, you better bear it well with crates and barrels!'_

 _'Sure, have a nice vacation, doc.'_

So that meant her meeting with Levy and Erza was also planned, her being accepted as a field medic and the allowance to continue her job as a field medic despite her half-blindness were all planned. And her holiday–

"Erza and Levy know," she muttered. Her eyes were wide in realization and the tremble that she kept hidden was now visible to them. _That can't be…_

"They know," Makarov nodded slowly, "and that's exactly why they send you off, or else, you will be killed in the ambush."

"And the ambush–"

"Was calculated thoroughly and carefully." Makarov closed his eyes. "It was also a part of the plan."

Natsu crouched beside her bed, running his hand up and down her back. The tremor wouldn't just go away. Lucy clenched and unclenched her hand. "Is there… anything else that I should know?" She ask-whispered.

"There is," Makarov answered, "but it's best for you to calm down first."

"I am calm," she insisted, seething.

"No, you're not," Natsu denied quietly, trying his best not to sound like he strongly against her knowing the truth. "We will tell you later, I promise."

Makarov moved then, putting a hand on the crown of her head. "They didn't die in vain and it's not your fault. Remember that, Lucy." The white-haired soldier picked the cup and cloth, stood, and exited the closed space.

Natsu took over the chair, hand still running up and down her back in hope of ceasing the tremble she had. He knew the news was quite a shock to her; that was why he decided to stay quiet, at least until she talked.

But he didn't know how long he had been doing that–rubbing her back–or until when then he should stop. Lucy didn't show any discomfort at his action, but she didn't show any comfort either. All he needed was her to talk and then he would see it from there.

"Don't pity me, you hear me?" She mumbled under her breath, so quiet that he almost missed them. "Don't pity me, I'm fine. I– I should have known."

He frowned, stopping his hand and pulled it to rest atop his knees. "You shouldn't have known, actually," he replied, carefully as he didn't want the already calm girl to snap for the second time. To his surprise, the girl laughed at his comment, free from humor, but at least she was doing something instead of staring emptily at her hands.

"It's a secret mission, right? Yeah, I shouldn't have known and I did," she shrugged her shoulders, "Okay, so now what?"

Natsu raised an eyebrow. "What _what_?"

"What are you guys going to do with me? Experimenting on me?"

"No!" He shouted. "We aren't going to do those nasty things to you, Luce."

"Luce?" She echoed.

The male merely shrugged his shoulder. "Nickname," he said, "better get used to it from now on."

She winced. "Nice, I have another nickname." Lucy rolled her eye, but couldn't hide the small tug upward on the corner of her lips.

"Another nickname?" Now was his turn to ask.

"Mhm, Levy and Erza called me Lu and Jellal called me _imouto_. Well, he was kind of a big brother figure to me and…" she trailed off. Her lone eye peered at Natsu.

"Go on," was all his response.

Lucy took a deep breath. "Erza was his wife, well not yet, but they were an official pair there. If only she was honest from the start, they could have babies now," she giggled, her seeing eye started to blur. "Levy was a sibling I've never had. We were so close, we stick together, we did stupid things together."

"Like what?" Natsu asked, smiling despite the heavy aura because _she was finally smiling_.

"You know, Gildarts was a heavy drinker. He could hold his liquor quite a bit. One night, we put this small tablet into his beer when he looked away. The next morning, he couldn't leave the toilet."

Lucy laughed at the memory. It was so devilishly stupid of them. Should there be an ambush, they would be screwed.

"And you two got into trouble because of it?" Natsu asked between his laugh. "So stupid!"

"I know, right? We just couldn't help it!"

She laughed so hard that she couldn't feel the tears that dampen her cheek. But when she did, she was stunned. "Gosh, why am I crying…"

Natsu watched her wiping tears with the back of her hand. The fiery female he knew since three days ago was gone now. In front of her was a girl, crumbling from guilt and sadness of losing precious family, a girl that didn't know the reason of the tears.

He knew from the start that she was an expressive person. But to watch her withering away, alone, was something he couldn't leave.

"Jiichan once told me," he said slowly, quietly, as he placed his hand on her head, patting it gently, "that you cry when you feel sad or frustrated. When you cry, it's best not to think of anything and just let them out."

Lucy peered from behind the fringe. A pair of unusual dull brown and white eye was wet, brimming with hot tears, stared at him. "Can I?"

He nodded silently and suppressed sobs broke out of her lips. She covered her face with hands and bowed her head, unwilling to be seen by him. Natsu understood, but he knew better. Mimicking what Makarov used to do when he was a child, he pulled her into him, made her head rest against his shoulder.

"Jiichan used to do this to me when I didn't want him to see me cry," he whispered. He felt she nodded and that his shirt started to dampen.

"I'll wet your shirt, though," she joked, or at least attempted to make one.

Natsu chuckled, tightening his hold around her. "It's okay."

* * *

Natsu watched the steady, slow inhale and exhale Lucy made. The poor female cried herself to sleep and if it wasn't for the sudden silence, he knew he wouldn't realize it.

Her pale skin made her look like a sick person. But then again, she just used all of her energy to cry, to grieve at the loss. Trail of tears were visible even in the dim light. It took his entire not to wince when she sleep-talking, calling out her friends.

He untied the cloak around her and hung it behind the door just like when she first spent the night here. Her duffel bag was placed on the chair and her boots beneath it. Natsu closed the door behind him quietly and went downstairs to get some talk with the old man.

It was unusually quiet on the bar. There was no static noise came from the tv or the sound of water running in the sink. His old man just sat behind the counter like he usually did, only without cloth and cup to wipe. Instead, there were two cups on the counter, both filled with liquor.

"How is she?" Makarov asked after chugging down the alcohol.

Natsu pushed the cup away, he felt not into them this time. "Crying her eyes out. She's sleeping now."

Makarov nodded. "It must be quite a shock for her," he said, "I was too harsh on her, wasn't I?"

"Heh," Natsu let out a small snort, "you sure did. She is different from me, old man, she's not–"

"She's a delicate thing, eh?"

Natsu slumped against the counter, buried lower half of his face into his arms and peeked through the bangs. "Yeah," his sigh was muffled by his arm, "and knowing it, you still did that. Nice."

"Lucy will need it. It's just the beginning of her rocky road. Who knows when or where a big boulder will fall, right?"

"Luce is strong," Natsu said, "and I'm here."

Makarov placed his empty cup, crossing arms as he stared at him. "And?" He asked, then.

"And I'll make sure she stays like that, I'll make sure she's unharmed until our mission finished," Natsu replied. His eyes glaring hole at the wooden surface. Something inside him snapped.

"For the sake of her?"

He went still before straightened his posture. "Why? Is something," his onyx eyes narrowed, "wrong?"

Makarov locked eyes with him. Something was burning behind those calm eyes, like a sea volcano far under the calm surface of the ocean–ready to erupt anytime it wanted.

"Nah, nothing," he laughed. "But remember, boy," Makarov pulled Natsu's share of alcohol and hopped down the stool, "mission above all."

He climbed upstairs, then, with not much more word.

* * *

When she woke up, the first thing that came into mind was _to kill them because they are soldiers and it's no longer a taboo to kill one._ But she didn't–she lay still on the bed and let out a sigh in defeat as her brain replayed events before she lost conscience.

Things came in a jumbled piece, but she managed to pull the big chunks and lined them up.

So the old man turned out to be Makarov Dreyar. He and Natsu was on a secret mission and that mission–

 _Curses!_

–was related to her. She was the _subject_ of the mission.

 _To hell with subject._

She had yet to be informed about the mission. Lucy doubted they would, anyway. After all, it was a _secret mission_ –informing the objective of the said action to anyone was out of the question.

But Natsu promised her. Psh, she snorted, as if she could trust him with lies dripping around the house like this. He might be a kind man, a bit too pushy and cheery for her liking–not all soldiers were _cheery_ , per se–and he was stupid. She couldn't afford to believe the word coming from stupid people.

Her head pounded as she forced herself to sit. It seemed like the infection was spreading into her head already. She hoped it wouldn't turn into any tumor or cancer; else she wouldn't be able to continue her job.

Lucy's internal clock told her it was two in the afternoon. The way the air was a lot less humid and dry wind could be heard outside proved her instinct. She walked to the door, grabbing her, once again, hanging cloak and wear it around her. Her boots were waiting neatly under the chair, with her bag sitting on it patiently. Okay, whoever did this, she could be thankful, but now was not the right time.

She got to escape the damned place. Oh yeah, Lucy wasn't going to be so easily caught. She refused to act all submissive and vulnerable.

The question was _how_. Makarov, as old as he was, wasn't one to take so lightly. He held the position of general and it meant something more than just a bar owner. And then, there was Natsu. Although she never heard of him before, she couldn't downright brush him off. Makarov took him under his wing since years ago, and even if he wasn't as good as the old man's grandson, he must be good for _something_.

The only possible time was night, the middle of the night when they were sleeping. Lucy knew she could count on herself to act stealthily. Medics, after all, had to be able to save themselves from any attack.

 _Tonight,_ Lucy told herself, clenching her jaw, _tonight or never._

* * *

Lucy could hear the wind outside. The temperature had dropped significantly, just like a dessert, and she gripped the hem of her cloak tight in her hand. Her eyes were wide open and her ears focused if there was any sound from the narrow corridor outside her room. She nodded, then–no one was around.

She flung the door open and it lost its chance to scream its usual creak. The door didn't make any sound at all, but she couldn't let her guard down. Her boots were safely pushed inside her bag, making her escape as quiet as possible.

The room several steps away from hers, Natsu's she assumed, had its light off and the other one on the end of the corridor was the same. Safe.

The rustle of her cloak, however, failed her to be perfectly silent. The swish created the tiniest sound she allowed to, but if she remembered right, Natsu had a sensitive hearing. If so, she had not much time to waste before he emerged from his room.

 _Stupid staircase,_ she cursed inwardly. Though she remembered that the third, the eighth, the ninth and the last one were creaking she failed to remember that the fifth was creaking the loudest. Although apparently, the noise didn't make the two soldiers to stir awake.

 _They sleep like a baby,_ Lucy snorted, _or it is me who's lucky._

The bar area was empty and dark, but dare not she switched the lamp on and despite the fact that her blind eye dragging down her sight, she couldn't risk getting caught. She was already halfway to her freedom.

A small rustle caught her hearing and she quickly turned around to the source. Fear of being caught quickly crept around her body. She could even hear her heartbeat in her ears. But she couldn't get caught here, no, she wouldn't give in.

There was a presence, thin, but lingering–one that Lucy couldn't simply brush off as a ghost–and it neared her. No, there was _several_ of it. Shit, were Makarov and Natsu aware of her escape plan?

Walking several steps back was the wisest choice she had. If the presence neared her, then she was busted.

A hand came from her behind, clamping her mouth shut while the other caught her hand. Lucy's eyes widened. It was Natsu, she was certain of it, and he was aware of her plan. But how come did she not notice his presence? Was Makarov the one who approached her?

Her mind reeled quickly. But with adrenaline pumped and panic consuming her head, she couldn't think of anything, of plan to– _fuck, can't shake his grip!_

The presence in front of her continued his walk to their direction, but she could feel Natsu dragged her backward. If not for her barefoot, she would have produced scrapping sound with her boots. Lucy then, with the sheer of desperation, bit his hand. The man behind her flinched and hissed in pain before she could feel his breath on her ear.

"Luce, it's me, Natsu," he whispered– _breathed_ on her ears, so quiet that she almost failed to hear. Shivers ran down her back and she stiffened. "Stop biting me," he continued, there was a hint of urgency in his tone.

But Lucy didn't want to listen to him. She would succeed escaping from here, goddammit!

She thrashed her legs, managed to land an ineffective kick on his shank before she felt nothing below her feet.

Sometimes Lucy cursed the law of nature for having men born with more strength than women. Natsu was now practically lifting her and pushed her onto his shoulder like a potato sack. Air forced its way out of her as her stomach knocked his sturdy shoulder. The sudden quick movement almost got her squeaking. Natsu was running while holding her and– _Gosh, did he just touching her butt?!_

"Close your mouth, Luce," he said, no longer whispering as he descended to a narrow staircase she didn't remember ever present. "This will be a rough one."

"You're touching my ass! Put me down!" She screamed, thrashing in his grip.

"You'll fall and we have no much time before they realize our absences."

"They who– oomph!" One time she was treated like a sack of potato and then she was _thrown_ like one. "Natsu! The heck was that?! I'm not some fucking potato sack!"

"Jiichan, go," was all Natsu said before she was pushed into the leather couch by the sheer force from the sudden movement. The screeching sound was all she could hear before it receded and the motor sound took over.

It took her some moment to study her surroundings. The scenery seemed to run so fast and it wasn't as cold as she thought. There were no wind or dirt and the steady hum of the engine fitted to the puzzle perfectly. She was in a car.

"Makarov-san," she called the man behind the steering wheel. "Where are we going?"

To her surprise, he chuckled as he slowed down the car and took a U-turn before speeding up again. "I guess we owe you some explanation, eh?" He questioned back.

"Don't worry, Luce," Natsu piped in, "We're going to take you to a real save place."

"Explanation," she glowered, "now."

"We've lost them, I think," Natsu told the old man.

Makarov nodded and looked at her through the rearview mirror and she sent him a glare, hand crossed over the chest. "Fine, but fuel first," he swiftly replied. Lucy peered at the dashboard in front of the steering wheel and saw a red lamp glaring at her.

She nodded, then, affirming. "Okay, fuel first."

The gas station was a kilometer away. It was empty, and even the convenience store was closed. The sign flickering almost hauntingly and crates and cardboard boxes thrown carelessly around the place. If Lucy was inside Levy's novel, she would call this place as a post-apocalyptic land.

The car stopped in front of a station and Natsu climbed out to fill the tank. Lucy couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that suddenly appear. It wasn't because of the dark place, she knew, but more like something that was wrong.

"Scared with the darkness?" Natsu asked as he opened the passenger door to peek at her. Lucy decided to ignore him. As much concern as he displayed on his face, she couldn't shake the urge of wanting to strangle him. "It's okay, Luce. We got some fancy place that you'll like for sure. Trust us."

"I'm nyctophilia, thank you very much," she replied and pulled the door close, effectively silencing Natsu's laugh.

"And why is that?" Makarov asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror once again.

She stared back at him. His eyes betrayed nothing, but she could feel calculation in them.

"Personal preference."

He nodded solemnly, just in time with Natsu's appearance inside the car. They exchanged looks before Makarov started the engine and quickly pushed down the gas pedal. Once again, Lucy was pushed into the leather seat.

Her protest died in her mouth when she heard a loud sound of gunshot. The glass behind her cracked and she forced herself to duck out of reflex. She could feel the car moving faster, not bothering to push the brace pedal as it made turn. Tires screeching loudly, Lucy used the opportunity to see where the gunshot came.

The scenery through the broken glass wasn't clear, as it was very dark outside, but she could see several cars closing in as though chasing after them. But with the bullet nestling on the cracked glass, Lucy refused to believe they were just another passing car.

"We're being chased," she whispered, "We're being chased!" She repeated, louder this time.

"I know!" Natsu replied as he released the seat belt and grabbed for something beneath her seat. He flashed a grin at her then. "Jiichan, keep the pace." He said, pulling out a long, cylinder iron bar. "I'll get rid of them."

Lucy watched as he turned around, opening the window and said, "Luce, I'm counting on you!" before half of his upper body was out of the car.

"Miss, you need to hold him," Makarov advised, his wise tone was as calm as ever, "else the brat will fall outside with the car this fast."

Her mind raced at the command and then she caught a sight of him through the window. Her mouth went ajar as she realized it wasn't an iron bar that he had in his hand. Positioned against his shoulder was a rifle, old but fully loaded.

She quickly stretched her arms and gripped his shirt tight while her feet hastily hooked to the iron beneath her seat in attempt of securing her position. Gunshot rang in the air and the sound of glass breaking was heard a moment later. Natsu let out another shot and the car behind them went screeching to the side as the bullet hit the front tire.

Another gunshot came from the other car and Lucy pulled him inside, just as Makarov started accelerating. She didn't have much time to think when the glass on her left broke, forcing her to back herself into the other side.

A car with its window open had a man with pale yellow hair and a set of feral grin and mad eyes staring at her. His rifle was pointing at her. "Gooood evening, bitch," he greeted. His grin went wider at the sight of her unmoved, frozen body. "Or should I say good night?"

His finger moved to pull the trigger. Lucy was certain she would have a nasty wound later if she managed to survive, but Makarov suddenly braked, successfully tumbling her and positioned their car behind the other car.

Natsu once again positioned himself on the window, shooting the car in front of them.

The glass behind her suddenly crashed and gunshot once again came from behind. Makarov steered the car to the side and accelerated, bumping the car in front of them in the process as Natsu pulled himself in.

"Shit, there are too many of them," Natsu reloaded his rifle. "We have to lose them. How much further until we reach the Vanity?"

"We can't go there. They'll find our hideout," Makarov made a sudden U-turn, surprising the car behind them and send it crashing into the roadside. "We'll go to my shelter."

"I'll contact them to send us backup team," Natsu quickly pulled his mobile phone. "This is Salamander. An ambush. Five cars, two down. Requesting backup team. Eighty six kilos out Acalypha. Proceeding to Eagle's nest."

Lucy could only listen in silence as she gripped her cloak tighter and force herself to calm down. Her heart was beating so fast and her eyes wide in astonishment. Five cars. Five cars were chasing them and they were still able to maintain their cool.

Her hand and cheek were bleeding from the glass shards, but she barely aware of the wound. The only thing in her mind was the scene of their enemy pointing his rifle at her. If only Makarov didn't see her through the rearview mirror and braced the car, her brain would be splattered around the window and seat already.

The thought sent chills running down her spine. The air around her was thick and tense. No one seemed in the mood to talk. It wasn't over yet, she realized. They might be contacting their ally to chase them again and that time, Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat heavily, they will succeed in killing her.

Lucy cursed inwardly and buried her face into her folded legs, into the folds of her cloak. The realization was hard to accept when she literally knew nothing of, of– _anything_ about this whole thing. But now she knew something, thanks to the 'ambush'.

She was their target.

* * *

continued in [4/4]

I'm sorry for the late update! Seems I broke two promises ;-; The first one is that I promised to update this part on Tuesday or Wednesday and the second one is when I replied to the reviewer that I will update this on Thursday. And today is Friday. Oh God, I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't mean to! The past three days have been a set of rough days for me. The university I aimed doesn't accept me and I have to study more for the second upcoming entrance exam which is on 31st May.

That means I can't update the other two stories. I'm really sorry if any of you read them and found no update! I promise I will update it as soon as possible (of course after the entrance exam).

Keep the review coming! Oh, there is a guest who reviewed and I can't reply to her. **Meigui _,_** if you read this, I want to thank you for reviewing and I hope this update will add to your amazing list that happened to you today! So, [4/4] will up on... Sunday? I'm sorry, I can't promise you the day. Honestly I just finished this part several minutes ago and I haven't started the last part yet.

Thank you for your patience!


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